


charm lessons

by annperkinsface



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-30
Updated: 2016-12-30
Packaged: 2018-09-13 07:15:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9112327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annperkinsface/pseuds/annperkinsface
Summary: Lando's charming is the thing and while he may have a more polished exterior it doesn't change that he's just as much a scoundrel and a rake. It makes for an easy friendship, least until Lando tries to take him under his wing."You aren't even a smuggler," Han says, obstinately."Doesn't mean I don't know a thing or two," Lando says. "And Han, buddy, I've seen how you handle yourself in tight situations. You could use the tips." He always says Han like the han in hand. Lando's kind of a weird guy."Hmph," Han replies. It's not a no.





	

This is how they meet:

He's young and feeling his way through this smuggler biz. It gets easier with Chewie, brains and brawn all in one big, furry package. The threat of Wookie violence is always good in a pinch, looming and rumbling going a long way for intimidation, but things go south, or threaten to, and Han has to try to salvage the job. Falls back on the three b's - bluffing, blustering, and bullshit - which is how he's lived his whole life, honestly. Just takes smuggling to turn it into a profession.

"This is some party," someone says. Han's face owes them a debt of gratitude because he was this close to saying goodbye to it. He slides his eyes to the left and — huh.

It's the man from the end of the bar. Han had noticed him earlier; a face like that was bound to catch his attention. Well, that and the cape. One of the goons trains a blaster on him. Han stiffens. Chewie rumbles disapprovingly.

Smoothie - no way this guy was anything else - holds up his hands and laughs.

"Easy there, fellas," Smoothie says. "I noticed the atmosphere was getting kind of tense."

 _Tense?_ Han wants to mouth to Chewie but the threat of blaster fire to the face is still very real. He focuses on looking as disarming as possible. Obviously doesn't succeed because none of the blasters waver.

The one on Smoothie, though—

"Come now. I can vouch for my friends here. I'm a respectable fellow. Nothing shows a man's character like a game of sabaac and if you don't believe me then my name's not Lando Calrissian."

Smoothie smiles and — _wow_.

They lower their guns, dazed.

 

 

 

"I can't believe that worked," Han grumbles after the goons have all filed out. "All you did was smile."

"A little charm goes a long way," says Lando, making Han squint thoughtfully. He wasn't ruling out it being a pheromone thing. Lando — and hell if that fit better than Smoothie — even extracted a promise of a game of sabaac.

"Apparently." Han looks at Chewie and raises his brows like 'can you believe this guy' but a smile quirks his mouth when he nods at Lando. Whatever it is must be catching. "The name's Han by the way. Han Solo. This is Chewie."

"Chewie, eh? That short for something?"

An affirmative bark. "Chewbacca," Han tells Lando. He's used to translating and not many off-worlders look as apologetic as Lando does for not speaking Wookie.

Lando smiles. It's a hell of a one, Han gives him grudgingly. He wonders if the effect wears off with repeat exposure. "A pleasure to meet you both."

 

 

 

Lando's charming is the thing and while he may have a more polished exterior it doesn't change that he's just as much a scoundrel and a rake. It makes for an easy friendship, least until Lando tries to take him under his wing.

"You aren't even a smuggler," Han says, obstinately.

"Doesn't mean I don't know a thing or two," Lando says. "And Han, buddy, I've seen how you handle yourself in tight situations. You could use the tips." He always says Han like the han in hand. Lando's kind of a weird guy.

"Hmph," Han replies. It's not a no.

 

 

 

"I'm too scruffy for this," Han complains.

"I don't know," Lando says. "I think Chewie could pull it off."

"Ha," says Han, bleakly. "You're hilarious."

"I aim to please," Lando drawls, then, "There we are." Han expects him to step back but—doesn't. Lando lingers in Han's space, skims his fingers over Han's collarbone. His eyes crease.

Weird, Han thinks. Not the least bit thrilling at all. His gaze flickers to Lando's mouth (curled up in a half smile) then down. Han makes a face. "I look like an idiot."

"Nonsense," says Lando. He smells good. Han should edge back. Laugh it off. But he's rooted to the spot, first by the barely there touch on his collarbone, then Lando's other hand sliding around the back of Han's neck. "You've just been a scoundrel so long you've forgotten what respectable looks like." Lando squeezes once, playfully. The pressure's good, his hand steady and warm. Han doesn't lean in but he wants to and that's—pheromones, probably, never mind that Chewie ruled out pheromones.

He scowls reflexively. "It's going to take more than a cape for me to be respectable."

"It doesn't hurt," Lando says, punctuating this with another squeeze. "And neither does a nice, friendly smile for that matter." The flash of teeth is all the warning he gets and then it's gone: Lando's hand drops. He steps back, out of Han's space as suddenly as he was ever inside of it.

Han swallows and doesn't feel bereft.

He rucks his mouth, fiddling with the cape's clasp. Certainly not avoiding Lando's eyes, nope, no siree. "Yeah, well," he says; "I guess we'll see, won't we?"

 

 

 

They see, alright.

Needless to say, the cape ends up getting singed.

 

 

 

"When I said give them your best smile," laments Lando, after; "I meant  _smile,_  not grimace like you've never had a natural facial expression in your life."

"Oh, like your smiles are genuine," Han snaps, in a fine mood after losing a good bit of hair.

"If genuine here means not having a facial spasm," Lando says, "then yes, my smiles are genuine."

"I'll show you a facial spasm," Han grumbles, wrestling with the cape around his shoulders. He wanted to throw it back in Lando's face but the universe wouldn't even allow him that much. Han gives it up as a lost cause, scowl deepening.

Lando watches his struggle, eyebrows raised, and shakes his head, a smile reluctantly tugging up the corner of his mouth. "It's a miracle you even get dressed in the morning."

"The real miracle is that you do," Han mutters, and in the end takes a knife to it, then ceremonially burns what's left just for the joy of seeing Lando's pinched look morph into one of despair.

 

 

 

Lando, in a rare show of optimism, decides to call it a test run and accompanies Han on some more jobs.

They go just as smoothly, cape or no cape, but Lando gets at least six marriage proposals out of it and Han is forbidden from ever stepping foot on two planets again.

 

 

 

"I've come to the conclusion that you would be dead a hundred times over if it weren't for Chewbacca," Lando says. They're getting drunk because Han, quite frankly, has had enough. Lando gets engaged, _again_ , and Han gets a broken nose. Where is the justice?

"Yeah, well, we all can't be a bunch of smoothies," Han says.

"Yes, because Wookies are well known for their diplomacy," Lando says, placidly. Chewie would've been up in arms, literally, if this came from anyone else, but he just howls and slaps Lando on the back, nearly sending Lando straight through the table.

Han snorts, half smiling as Lando dazedly straightens. "You'd be surprised," he says. "Chewie's got more marriage proposals than the two of us put together."

Chewie rumbles in the affirmative. You don't live as long as a Wookie does and be as charming as Chewbacca without that being the case. Smoothie really had nothing on his best buddy sometimes.

"Of that I have no doubt," says Lando, eyes bright, and there he goes again with his lips and teeth, and Han thinks, _fuck_ , and, _really?_

So much for being desensitized.

He takes advantage of Lando going to get more drinks to hiss at Chewie.

"Look, buddy, I know we ruled out pheromones, but are you _sure_ it's not pheromones—"

Chewie just howls in laughter.

Han was never exactly quick on the uptake.

 

 

 

"That was terrible," Lando says when Han finally gets around to kissing him. It doesn't take him too long after that. Han's no blushing maiden when it comes to pursuing attraction even if it's to _Lando_ , of all people.

Han draws back, puffing up indignantly. For all that he is apparently attracted to Lando, he also wants to strangle him half the time. "Excuse me?"

Lando sighs, woefully put upon. "Must I teach you everything?"

"Teach me!?" Han yelps though he'll deny it vehemently later. "Yeah, because I really needed lessons in capes being an impractical target for blaster fire, what would I do without you, pal—"

Large, warm hands cup his face. Han quiets. Lando strokes his thumbs over Han's cheekbones, smiling softly, and covers his mouth with his. Kisses, in Han's experience, are generally fevered and wet, but Lando is unhurried. He bites at Han's lip then soothes it with his tongue, kissing like he's the star of one of those old holo dramas. It should be ridiculous and insulting but Han isn't exactly steady on his feet, scrabbling at Lando's shoulders and groaning into his mouth.

He wasn't swooning, he thinks desperately. Smugglers do not swoon.

Lando huffs out a laugh and pulls back, hands dropping from Han's face to his shoulders. "That's how you kiss someone," he says, smugly.

"Yeah, I bet your thirty fiancees really love it," Han says, waspishly, but his hands were already pulling Lando back in.

"I'm insulted that you think I have such a low number," Lando murmurs against his mouth and Han bites at Lando's smile for good measure.

**Author's Note:**

> truly, it was a romance to last the ages, at least until han went swanning off into the sunset with lando's own ship


End file.
